


The Detective And The Devil

by RigorMorton



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bleeding From Sex, Choking, Dark, Dirty Talk, Disturbing Ending, Disturbing Themes, Dubious Morality, Explicit Language, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Kiss, First Time, Fist Fights, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Hate Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Older Man/Younger Man, Public Hand Jobs, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Violence, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RigorMorton/pseuds/RigorMorton
Summary: [An alternate version of the interrogation scene between Jim and Jeremiah from 4 x 22.]Jim's hand reaches out, pressing into the kid's breast pocket, pushing Jeremiah off him.Suddenly a hissing noise fills the room followed by Jeremiah's loud cackling, and before Jim knows what's happening, green smoke hits him in the face, stinging his nose and throat.The detective coughs and rubs his eyes frantically. The damn kid booby trapped himself.Jim feels dizzy and weak. His head becomes cloudy as he loses his balance, falling down to his knees, onto the cold, hard floor.It sends a sting to his kneecaps and he topples over, face down onto the tile, barely able to roll himself over onto his back."Oh, detective Gordon." Jeremiah tsks, pulling his gloves off of his long fingers. "Barricading the door from the inside is about to backfire on you." He croons, crouching down next to an inebriated Jim. "You underestimated me."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do this, because I ship it so hard now. Help.

"Let me in there!" Jim yells, trying to push his way through Harvey.

"No way. You're too heated. You'll do something stupid." 

Jim swallows thickly, and straightens up, creating the illusion that he's calm.

Harvey holds him still for a few moments, making sure his partner's actually settled down, till he feels confident about it.

He pats Jim on the shoulder. "Trust me, Jim. It's for the best. We'll take care of that maniac, ok?"

Jim nods his head in agreement, putting his hand on his hip.

"You want a coffee or something, Jim?"

"Coffee sounds great." He fakes a smile.

Harvey gives a nod and starts to walk off toward the vending machines. He always was too trusting.

Jim feels a little bit bad for deceiving him, but he's got to get in that interrogation room.

As soon as Harvey's about eight feet away, Jim darts for the door.

"Jim, no!" Harvey shouts, running to tackle him, but it's too late.

The metal door shuts in his face with a heavy thud.

Jim wastes no time grabbing a heavy, metal chair, shoving the back of it up underneath the doorknob, jamming it.

"Damn it, Jim!" Harvey yells out, banging loudly on the door.He knows it's useless. "In the booth, now!" 

He and the other officers run into the viewing booth behind the interrogation room to watch helplessly.

"Why hello, detective Gordon." Jeremiah smirks from across the room.

He's sitting at the table with his forearms resting on the surface - his hands clasped together. 

"You shot Selina, you son of a bitch." Jim grits his teeth, walking with angry, heavy steps toward the grinning clown.

Jeremiah's eyes light up with excitement, seeing the wild anger in Jim's blue eyes. Knowing he was able to bring such burning passion out of him.

Jim grabs the clown by the collar, yanking him up to his feet.

Jeremiah's back hits the hard wall behind him with a thud, sending an aching, stinging pain up his spine. He doesn't flinch.

"Ooh hoo hoo." He giggles in Jim's face. How'd you know, I like it rough, Jimbo?"

Jim grimaces before swinging a left hook to the side of the clown's face, making Jeremiah grunt at the cold sting Jim's heavy fist delivers to his cheekbone.

He wiggles his jaw before standing back up straight and cocking a mischievous brow.

"Oh yeah, baby. Just like that." He licks his lips, eyes wide with delight.

Jim's stomach sinks. "You're sick." He growls, shoving the kid back up against the wall, roughly. 

"Oh, you have no idea." Jeremiah cackles, lunging forward, attacking Jim's lips with his own.

The detective struggles to push the maniac off - his mind swirling with anger and confusion.

"Oh my God." Harvey panics, running his hands through his hair in frustration - the other detective's jaws hanging open in shock.

Jim's hand reaches out, pressing into the kid's breast pocket, pushing Jeremiah off him.

Suddenly a hissing noise fills the room followed by Jeremiah's loud cackling, and before Jim knows what's happening, green smoke hits him in the face, stinging his nose and throat. 

The detective coughs and rubs his eyes frantically. The damn kid booby trapped himself.

Jim feels dizzy and weak. His head becomes cloudy as he loses his balance, falling down to his knees, onto the cold, hard floor. 

It sends a sting to his kneecaps and he topples over, face down onto the tile, barely able to roll himself over onto his back.

"Oh, detective Gordon." Jeremiah tsks, pulling his gloves off of his long fingers. "Barricading the door from the inside is about to backfire on you." He croons, crouching down next to an inebriated Jim. "You underestimated me."

Jeremiah gives an amused chuckle.

He runs a finger along the side of Jim's jawline, admiring the handsome detective's chiseled features.

Jim's eyes flutter up at the pale man above him. He knows what's happening and a deepened worry settles in the pit of his stomach. 

His muscles and limbs are so heavy. He can't throw a punch at Jeremiah. He can't even get up to his feet.

All Jim can do is lie there, head lulling, as Jeremiah's face leans in closer - a wicked grin and crazed twinkle in his eye.

A warm thumb carefully caresses the side of his cheek while soft lips press into his.

Wet, slick muscle pries his lips apart and fills his mouth with soft warmth, in a way that's surprisingly gentle. So much so, it's easy to forget the one delivering this graceful kiss is the devil himself. 

Jeremiah moans into Jim's mouth. It's hot and welcoming, and tastes of breath mints. It's everything. 

Something about the thought of having a genuinely good and moral man like Jim Gordon, makes him crazy with desire. And the (probably) shocked faces of the peanut gallery behind the two way mirror, certainly doesn't hurt.

Jeremiah breaks the kiss to taunt them. He cocks a brow, flashing his devilish smile, before his hands travel down to the detective's belt, working the prongs out of the holes.

He just wishes he could see their worried and repulsed faces while he has his way with their precious hero.

His attention turns back to Jim, who's struggling to at least sit up on his own.

Jim's cheeks flush with red as the button on his pants is pulled through the loop. He knows his fellow officers are watching, unable to help him, and he feels at least a little lucky that he can't see or hear them. He can pretend they're not there and no one is witnessing his molestation. 

"Jeremiah…" He manages to get out - breathless and ragged.

Jeremiah shushes him, stroking his hair. "It's ok, Jimbo. You're in good hands." He smirks, as he starts to palm Jim's bulge through his pants. 

Jim groans and twists his closed fist into Jeremiah's jacket.

He can't get hard. He just can't. Not for the evil man that's trying to destroy the city he loves. The same man that shot Selina. And not in front of the detectives he works alongside with every day to protect this city from scum like Jeremiah Valeska. No. He can't. 

He grits his teeth as that wicked hand provides a squeezing warmth that makes him tingle. 

Three of those fingers move under his ballsack, moving in a gentle circular motion - the thumb swiping over the front of his bulge, and Jim presses his face into Jeremiah's chest, muffling his groan as he hardens in the criminal's hand.

Jeremiah releases a wicked laugh, throwing his head back in amusement. "Oh Jimbo. How your body betrays you." He humms, craddling Jim's head to his chest.

"Ok. That's enough." Harvey says, closing the curtain in front of the two way mirror.

"Harvey, we need to make sure Jim's ok. What if he kills him?" Alvarez asks.

"What difference does it make? We can't get in there anyway. We're not gonna watch Jim's dignity be degraded like this. We're just not. And if Jeremiah wanted him dead, he'd be dead already."

Jeremiah's long fingers slip into the elastic of Jim's boxer briefs and wrap themselves tightly around the hot, hard flesh hiding in there, making Jim jerk and groan in response. 

"Relax, Jimbo." He whispers, reaching into his pocket to pull out a travel size bottle of hand lotion.

He squirts it out onto his hand and carefully spreads it along the length of Jim's erection.

It's sticky and cold and Jim's head falls back into Jeremiah's arm.

"Wow, detective Gordon. I am impressed. You're about as big as me. What is that? Eight? Nine inches?" The clown laughs.

Jim feels degraded, but the tingle of a closed fist moving upward over his slicked up cock, steals his attention. And God help him, because it feels good.

Jeremiah's body heat warms the lotion as his palm delivers, slow, smooth strokes over Jim.

It's tingly and warm and makes his cock twitch in the criminal's hand.

"That's a good boy." Jeremiah coos, squeezing tightly around the shaft, enjoying the silky smoothness of Jim's skin running through his lotioned fingers. "So good for me."

"It's too bad, we're not completely alone with more time, Jimbo. I'd throw myself over that table and let you fuck me, till I couldn't walk. You'd like that wouldn't you? To hate fuck me and have me bleed on your cock."

Jim looks up at him through heavy lidded eyes. He's never heard such dirty things, in real life. And Jeremiah's right about one thing. Jim wouldn't mind making him bleed.

The detective is somehow able to tangle his fingers into Jeremiah's tie, pulling the younger man's face to his, angrily.

"Uh oh. Looks like the gas is wearing off. We better hurry then." He giggles, picking up speed - his strokes now fast and rough.

"It's unfortunate. I was about to take mine out too. We could've had a lot more fun tonight. But alas, I have not perfected this toxin yet."

Jeremiah's own cock is hard and tingly, pressing uncomfortably tight against the seem of his pants. He supposes he'll have to let it pass on its own, this time.

He has to get his detective off. Humilate him in front of his peers. Make him succumb to him. That's his primary focus. And it's working.

His wrist pumps up and down Jim's swollen cock a few more times, eliciting a small gasp from the detective's quivering lips.

Jim's cock constricts in Jeremiah's hand while waves of tingly heat roll over his entire groin, making him tremble in the evil man's arms.

"There we go, detective." Jeremiah laughs, evilly, as hot, sticky liquid threads through his fingers.

He did it. He made Gotham's morally superior detective; practically the only one that wasn't corrupt, come undone and Jeremiah's never had a more satisfying defeat.

Jim releases an exasperated sigh, coming down from the high of his orgasm. His head starts to clear and his muscles become easier to move.

Jeremiah quickly tucks Jim's softening cock back into his pants and scrambles to his feet, grabbing Jim's gun before he can.

Jim's able to get himself up on all fours - his head still swirling slightly, and Jeremiah grabs him by the arm jerking him up roughly, not quite being able to get him to his feet.

"On your feet, detective." Jeremiah points the gun down at him.

"Fuck you." Jim grimaces.

"Oh, Jimbo." Jeremiah gets down behind him, hooking Jim's neck into a tight headlock, and slipping the cold barrel of the gun under his chin. "Please don't make me shoot you. I like you. I like you a lot. You're tenacious and driven. Just like me." He cackles wildly.

"Now get the fuck up!" The clown barks, pulling Jim up, forcefully. "You can't afford to die, Jimmy. Gotham needs you. It's nothing without you. I'm nothing without you."

Jim knows he's right. If he let's Jeremiah shoot him to avoid him getting away, the kid'll just escape later and the city will crumble without him.

He grits his teeth and cooperates as Jeremiah pulls him toward the door.

The clown kicks the metal chair out from under the door handle with a loud clank and presses the gun into Jim's temple.

"Be a good boy, and open the door for me." The wording makes Jim's stomach turn, but he does it anyway.

He reaches down and turns the nob, gasping as the kid's forearm presses into his neck. He's too smart to give Jim any slack to escape. 

The door opens and Jeremiah starts to walk through it, pushing Jim along with him.

Sure enough, they're met with a sea of cops, staring them down - legs spread, guns pointed and cocked.

"That's cute, but I'm afraid it seems I have the upper hand." His finger curls tauntingly over the trigger.

"Now, if you'll excuse us…" He starts to walk backwards toward the emergency exit.

"Can't let you take him, Jeremiah." Harvey swallows thickly. 

"You don't have a choice, detective bullock. Besides, he's just going for a short little walk. Just until I can make my escape."

Jim wants to tell Harvey to risk it, and just shoot Jeremiah right between the eyes. But he knows if things go south, so does all of Gotham.

"Back away, guys." Jim chokes out. 

Harvey looks at Jim and back at Jeremiah, squinting his eyes shut in defeat.

He looks over his shoulder, motioning for the other detectives to lower their weapons. 

Jeremiah smirks and delivers a backwards kick to the emergency exit door, and backing out of the bulding quickly, dragging poor Jim along with him.

Jim gasps when his face hits the fresh, and cool night air.

The screeching of tires startles him slightly, as a grey van pulls up to the sidewalk, running over the curb as the side door slides open.

Jim can't make out who's in there. It's too dark and he's still a little out of it.

Jeremiah smiles gleefully. His getaway has arrived.

He tightens his forearm into Jim's throat, one last time, whispering in his ear. "Thanks for the lovely evening, Jimbo. You were such a gentleman. Perhaps we can do it again sometime? You do owe me one." He growls, placing a rough, wet peck to the side of Jim's cheek, making the detective scrunch his face up in disgust.

Jeremiah releases his throat, making Jim nudge forward and almost fall flat on his face.

He turns to try and chase the kid, but the van is already screeching away with Jeremiah smiling at Jim through the still open door - his cackles filling the night air as the van speeds off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim sneaks out of the precinct to seek revenge on Jeremiah for his public humiliation. 
> 
> He and Jeremiah are shocked to find out how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to add one more chapter where Jim gets his revenge. Kinda...

Jim makes his way down the dark alleyway, gun in hand, stepping as quietly over the dirty wet concrete as he can.

He can't draw any attention to himself. He can't let Jeremiah see him coming and he certainly can't have his fellow officers finding him before he can catch that maniac. 

Jim's got practically the whole precinct after him. He snuck out of there after Jeremiah's escape. And they're not stupid. They know he left to find the clown and get revenge for his public humiliation. 

The detective's gotta work quickly. Certainly the kid is around here. He doesn't have his followers anymore and it's not as if a solid white man with red lips can just walk into a hotel and be inconspicuous. He's gotta be slinking around Gotham somewhere. And Jim Gordon's made it his mission to find him.

The detective spots a delivery truck parked in front of a garbage bin. This sets bells and whistles off in his head. Sure it could just be a homeless guy, or a teenage couple making out, but more than likely, that truck contains a sleeping Jeremiah Valeska.

Jim creeps toward the truck, getting ready to open the back and climb in before the kid can get up to his feet, but the sound of a stream of liquid splashing onto the concrete makes him stop dead in his tracks.

He gives a quick look around to find Jeremiah on the other side of the garbage bin, taking a piss against the wall.

The detective swallows the lump in his throat.  
This is it. This is his moment. His chance for revenge. 

He didn't realize how nervous he'd be till just now. His stomach is in knots. Jeremiah is one of the few people that actually intimidates him.

Jeremiah rolls his head around, cracking his sore neck. He's had quite the exhausting night. And it's about to get even wilder.

He finishes what felt like an excessively long piss, about to tuck himself back into his pants, when he hears a leaf crunch.

Before he can turn around, the cold barrel of a gun presses against his temple, with a clicking noise. A huge grin crosses his pale face. He's not exactly sorry to see Jimbo.

"Who has the upperhand now?" Jim growls, enjoying the satisfaction of this moment. 

"Detective, Gordon." Jeremiah purrs, sounding pleased. "Thank God you're here. It's awfully lonely in this dark, damp alleyway."

"Shut up!"Jim barks, pressing the gun harder into Jeremiah's skull.

"You know why I'm here, you sick son of a bitch."

"Indeed I do." Jeremiah replies - his voice sultry and low.

"Get up against the wall. All the way. I wanna see you eating brick."

Jeremiah leans in closer to the wall, pressing the side of his face into the rough wet bricks - a pleased grin spreading across his crimson lips.

"That's a good boy." Jim taunts, using the same words Jeremiah taunted him with, just hours ago. "So good for me." 

Jeremiah gives a low chuckle. "You don't have it in you, James. You're not ruthless enough. Your moral obligations will never allow you to exact your revenge properly. This is just smoke and mirrors to scare me."

"Oh, Jeremiah. You underestimate me."

Jim presses his body into Jeremiah's backside, and reaches down around his waist to unbutton his pants, before nonchalantly putting his gun back in its holster. Something tells him the kid isn't gonna put up much of a fight.

Jeremiah's head swirls with disbelief. This is really happening. The great holier than thou, Jim Gordon is about to hate fuck him into a brick wall. Turns out he did underestimate the detective. 

Jim can't believe it either. He doesn't know what's come over him. All he knows is he wants to degrade and humiliate Jeremiah the same way this vile creature did him at the precinct. But he knows he can't. 

Jeremiah will love every minute of his 'assault'. His cock's probably already hard, just thinking about it.

Jim knows this won't exactly be a punishment for the maniacal criminal, but it is a way to release some frustration and show Jeremiah he means business. Show him for future reference, that in his case, the detective's not above using his own tactics against him. Assert dominance, if you will.

What he doesn't realize is, him stooping to Jeremiah's level is a huge win for the clown. He'll take great satisfaction in being personally responsible for the corruption of Gotham's most upstanding detective. And he can't fucking wait.

Jim slides the fly on Jeremiah's pants all the way down and tugs the kid's pants down below his waist, letting them fall into a puddle around Jeremiah's ankles.

That in itself is enough to get Jeremiah going.  
He grins as he feels the tingle of his cock springing to life, pressing tightly into the front seam of his boxers. 

Jim grabs hold of the elastic band around them and yanks them down too, making Jeremiah gasp as the cool night air hits his newly freed cock.

The clown waits patiently, hearing Jim's belt unfastening with a metalic clank. 

Jim palms over his own crotch, getting himself ready for penetration. His eyes squeeze shut as the tingly pressure builds, bringing his cock to full attention. 

"Hurry up, detective Gordon." Jeremiah growls impatiently. 

Jim is irritated because it reminds him the boy wants it. "Shut up." He barks, pressing his hand into Jeremiah's upper back, between his shoulder blades, shoving him roughly into the bricks.

"Ooh hoo hoo." Jeremiah giggles - a sharp pain spreading through his left eyebrow. "Now we're talkin."

Jim lets out a shaky, angry sigh, but chooses to ignore him.

He reaches over Jeremiah's shoulder to rummage through his breast pocket, pulling out the small bottle of lotion the kid had used on him at the precinct.

Jeremiah shivers with anticipation, listening to the lotion squeeze out into Jim's palm and it makes a delightful slicking noise as the detective coats his dick with it. 

"I just thought you should know…." Jim whispers, ghosting his lips over the shell of Jeremiah's ear. "Lubing up is not me being courteous. It just makes it easier for me to fuck you as hard as I want."

"Of course." Jeremiah smiles. "I wouldn't expect any more from you, Jimbo."

Jeremiah already knows he's not getting prepped, and he's accepted this. Jim can hurt him if he wants to. He's not afraid. 

He spreads his legs apart slightly, putting his hands against the wall to balance himself and sticking his ass out for the taking.

The sticky, swollen head of Jim's cock presses into the crack of his cheeks, brushing past them, and rubbing up against his entrance - his heart racing with excitement.

Jim counts to three in his head, and thrusts forward, ramming his cock in to the hilt - completely submerging himself in the tight clutches of Jeremiah's ass.

Jeremiah presses his forehead into the bricks, biting back a painful groan, as to not give Jim the satisfaction of hurting him. And boy does it hurt.

It's a burning, stretching pain that makes his legs start to shake, as stars stud his vision. 

Jim withdrawls his hips and quickly slams back in roughly without regret, savoring the suffocating warmth of Jeremiah's body. 

He braces himself, putting one hand up against the wall, hooking the other around the clown's waist, and begins a torrent of merciless thrusts, hammering into the writhing clown in front of him.

Jeremiah manages to tolerate the pain. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly as his face is nudged uncomfortably into the cold bricks, and the satisfaction of knowing what he's capable of getting Jim Gordon to stoop to, somehow gives him comfort. 

Jim on the other hand, is now lost in a haze of pleasure. Who knew this cold blooded clown from hell, could give his body such an embracing warmth.

He opens his eyes momentarily, looking down to watch his cock disappear into Jeremiah's tight ass, just to resurface with every retract of his hips. It's a mesmerizing sight.

Jeremiah finally starts to loosen up. He curls his fingertips into the bricks, starting to feel a twinge of pleasure that rocks through his backside till he feels he might come apart. 

 

Oh, what a bittersweet pleasure it is. It still has a little sting to it, but as Jeremiah's body adjusts to this intrusion, a warm tingle starts to rear its head, getting stronger and stronger with every thrust. It pushes the burn of the stretch, further into the background, till it's just a distant memory. Now it's just the delightfully warm, wet slide of Jim's cock. Like a hot metal rod, dressed in satin, draining away the cold emptiness inside him.

Jim has to fight to keep from moaning. He can't allow himself to verbally express his pleasure, considering where it's coming from. This is business only. Revenge. 

He slams himself forward again, pumping himself into Jeremiah's ass with enough force to make the kid's teeth clatter.

Jeremiah almost flies out of his own skin. Jim's thrusts are ruthless now as he slams into him over and over - their bodies slapping together, luscious and wet. And Jeremiah can no longer stay quiet. 

Raspy moans and obscenities fall from his blood, red mouth - his fingertips scraping along the rough surface of the brick. "Shit, detective Gordon. Jesus fuck!" He can't even get out a full sentence. Just incoherent yells.

Jim grimaces a little. It's hard to pretend this onslaught is a punishment when the kid is screaming in pleasure. However, the thought that he has this twisted criminal, coming undone for him, does do a little something for him. He can take that as somewhat of a victory.

Jeremiah whimpers into the bricks, praying for an eventual release. Praying that Jim does not come first. His cock is tightly constricting with arousal and he knows the detective will not extend him the courtesy of a reach around. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping for the best and enjoying what he's got - Jim Gordon, eight inches deep inside him, succumbing to the dark side, Jeremiah always knew he had.

Jim takes his hand off the wall and grabs onto Jeremiah's hip instead - now having two hands on either side of him for leverage. 

He pulls Jeremiah's ass toward him, plunging even further into his warm depths, circling his hips instead of just in and out.

The head of Jim's cock, bumps over a spot inside Jeremiah that sends a tingle as strong as an electric bolt through his entire lower half.

Jeremiah's knees buckle and his limp body starts to slide down the sharp brick wall, making Jim hook his arm around his waist to hold him up.

The detective can't help but chuckle slightly at Jeremiah's reaction. He feels amused and powerful.

Jeremiah finally straightens himself back up - legs still slightly wobbly, and leans back into the wall, panting with ragged breath.

"Oh, God Jimbo. Do it again." He pleads - his raspy voice full of desperation.

Jim knows he shouldn't oblige him. He should just let himself come and leave Jeremiah high and dry, whimpering on the dirty ground. But this is just too much fun.

"Just stop talking." Jim grits, thrusting himself forward, letting his cock slide up the boy's slick channel again. Groaning as the velvety walls caress him so nicely. 

He swivels his hips again and again in a circular motion and it takes everything inside him not to moan from the sensation, so he grunts instead, feeling like it's somehow different. 

Jeremiah gasps for breath. The intense feeling in his rear is overwhelming. His engorged cock is tight and leaking. He needs to come so badly, and he's so close.

Jim snaps his hips a few more times, fast and rough and Jeremiah doesn't even know what hit him. 

A warmth radiates in his pelvis, spreading out through his groin like a tidal wave. A flood of hot, tingly sensation makes his knees buckle and his legs shake as he spills out all over the wall in front of him.

His spasming walls, constrict tightly around Jim's cock, creating a pulsating sensation that pushes him right over the edge.

It feels like flames licking at his wicked soul as lava flows through his veins. The filthiness of what he's doing makes his climax stronger. The thrill of doing something immoral for once. The feel of constricting velvet, suffocating him. The guilt. It hits him all at once, and hot ropes of cum leave his body, transferring into Jeremiah's.

His legs are weak and shaky. His head swirling with a hundred thoughts at once.

Jim braces himself against the wall, inching himself out of Jeremiah's ass with a squelch - Jeremiah already feeling a cold, empty void.

The detective smirks at the twinge of pink coating the tip of his cock. Looks like he did make him bleed.

He wipes it off with his hand and tucks himself back into his pants. 

"Pull yourself together." He pants at Jeremiah, pulling his limp body off the wall and giving him a shove away from him.

Jeremiah cackles breathlessly, pulling his pants back up and fastening his belt.

"What's wrong, James? Not in the mood for cuddling?"

Jim scoffs - his eye twitching in annoyance. "Do you ever just shut up?" 

"Well that would be too easy, now wouldn't it, Jimbo? Then you wouldn't have to feel guilty for your immoral behavior today." His eyes widen with spite.

Jim grits his teeth. The nerve of Jeremiah judging him for what he did.

"Fuck you." Jim pants out, starting to walk away.

Jeremiah chuckles. "You already did that, James. And quite well, I might add."

Jim sighs at his poor choice of words. He walked right into that.

The moon shines down on Jeremiah's pale face, making those evil eyes of his light up like little blue flames. It's eerie. Like something out of a horror movie, and it makes Jim shift uncomfortably. 

Jeremiah can see the uneasiness in the detective's eyes and he loves it. It takes a lot to make Jim Gordon squirm and the thought of having the power to do so, proves the greatest reward. But why stop there? Why not push it a little further? Haunt the detective's dreams, perhaps?

Jim shakes his head, turning his back on Jeremiah. He figures it's better to walk away and not give the little shit the satisfaction. 

"Detective?" Jeremiah calls out, his grin growing unnaturally wide.

Jim stops and gives the kid one more look of disdain, curious to hear what he says.

"Ya ever dance with the devil in the pale, moon light?"

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for this dubcon trash.


End file.
